


five.

by Anakin_Skywalker



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Drabble Sequence, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Lots of kissing, Pre-Relationship, That was sort of the original prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 15:37:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20428325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anakin_Skywalker/pseuds/Anakin_Skywalker
Summary: A collection of drabbles wherein Xayah and Rakan love each other very much. Written originally for a kiss drabble prompt.





	five.

**1.**

They run from the town, spoils of their raid slung over their shoulders or held under their arms. Xayah is laughing, and Rakan hollers in triumph. Stealing from humans shouldn’t be an activity that anyone does for fun, but there’s always a certain thrill to being chased by town guards and escaping without a scratch. 

They’re crossing a meadow now, and each footfall sends sprays of gold dust up from the flowers underneath their feet, making glittering clouds in the air. They drop their loot in a pile, and their wild absconce turns into a dance; carefree and unplanned as the sun sets behind them.

“You were  _ amazing! _ ” Rakan says, grinning, “That leap and kick thing, right at the end there—”

“I guess...” Xayah tosses her hair, and in her best impression of his voice, she says, “But I’m  _ always _ amazing, aren’t I?”

“Well!” He laughs, and then shoots her a wink, “You  _ know  _ I can’t argue with that.”

He bumps into her as he’s turning, and she shoulders him back playfully. It’s been a while since he’s seen her this happy, but maybe it’s just their blood pumping. Adrenaline and victory and excitement.

She turns to face him, and in a whirl of cloaks both of them tumble to the ground, still laughing. Rakan is on his back among their scattered belongings, Xayah on top of his chest; and before either of them realize what’s happening, she’s got her hands on either side of his face and he’s got one on her side, and their lips meet.

(  _ it feels right, for both of them; it’s the first time, but it’s such a comfortable sensation, being like this — it may as well have been the hundredth, or the thousandth. _ )

As soon as she pulls away Xayah turns beet-red, realizing what she’s done. She sits up and covers her face with her hand, turning to look out at the meadow in embarassment. Rakan runs a hand through his hair, but he’s still smiling, too.

“Sorry,” She says, “I just didn’t think— sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He laughs, “ _ Xayah _ . You know that I like you.”

She gets up, still embarassed and content to leave the conversation at that. He gets up too, and they both go back to business as usual. Friendly. Casual. Rakan has no qualms with letting her think. He’s never made his affections any sort of secret, and maybe he’s sort of had an inkling about where hers lie for the past while. 

Still, they don’t talk about it for the remainder of the night. They return to laughing and chatting, joking about their raid, and the exploits of the day. But in the end, neither of them forget.

**2.**

“Kiss me again.”

Rakan looks up from his journal, startled at her forwardness. They sit by their nightly fire, though neither of them have spoken for several hours. They’ve been enjoying one anothers’ presences, the cool night air, and the moment of peace afforded to them for being so far from civilization. Naturally, Rakan finds himself rather blindsided by the request.

“Uh, right now?” He asks.

“I mean, umm—” Xayah’s confidence fades a little, and she leans forward, wraps her hands around her chest, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Of course. Duh. I just thought, well… last time, I wasn’t thinking, but I felt… shit, I dunno. I was just thinking, maybe, if we did it again, I might...”

Rakan interrupts her rambling by leaning over the gap between them. He cups her face with one hand, and runs a thumb over her cheek, and she goes silent for a moment. When he kisses her, it’s more awkward than the first time. More planned, and not so clumsy, but quicker. Still, it sends the same thrill of  _ rightness _ through him that makes his heart pound.

He sits back. Xayah is blushing, and for a moment she has an uncharacteristically dazzled expression on her face, which she shakes off right away.. 

There’s a long pause, and then he says, “So. Figure out… what you were hoping to figure out?”

Xayah looks at the fire, then back up at Rakan. She touches a finger to her lips, and then says, “I think so, yeah.”

“That’s good,” He smiles at her, reopening his journal, “Are you going to tell me what it was, or… what your answer was, then?”

Xayah considers for a moment. Finally, she replies: “Not right now, I think. Ask me again tomorrow.”

Rakan laughs. “Okay,” He says, “Tomorrow then.”

**3.**

Something smashes against a wall somewhere over their heads, and both of them duck underneath it, sweating and giggling. They take cover under the stairs, leaving behind shouting voices and the sounds of quarreling, drunk humans. 

They kiss; again, and again; deep and needy and excited. They have foregone embarassment by now. Rakan knows what he’s feeling, and he can see in Xayah’s eyes (  _ and the way her hands are always pulling him closer, how she’s worn her dress shorter and slept nearer with him in recent days, the way she murmurs affections to him at night sometimes when she thinks he can’t hear— _ ) that she does, too. 

They pull away so they can glance out between the steps that they’re hiding under, watching to see if they’ve been noticed. It’s dusty, and not particularly comfortable, but neither care. They are both panting, pressed up against the wall, and Rakan brushes Xayah’s hair back from where it’s stuck to her face. There’s a cut on her cheek, and he’s got more than his fair share of bruises from the brawl. Still, Xayah is grinning  _ fiercely _ at him. He bumps their foreheads together.

“Xayah, I love you.” He breathes, sounding almost rushed. He doesn’t need to whisper; in fact, he needs to talk a bit louder over the background noise. Still, he leans in so that their eyes meet and there’s no way she can miss his words, and takes her hand. “I  _ really  _ love you. I do. Everything we do, you and me. I want to be with you.”

“Oh, fuck, Rakan.” Xayah says, and there’s a hint of a chuckle in her voice; exhilarated but nervous, and maybe a little bit of something else, “I love you too, but—here?”

He nods, and then brings her hand up and brushes a kiss along her knuckles. “Would you have it any other way?” He laughs, and then, in a more serious tone, he says, “I am yours, Xayah, if you will have me. My heart, my soul.”

“ _ I will _ .” She doesn’t even begin to hesitate, simple accepting the pledge and then lacing their fingers together, “And you’ll have me, Rakan. I’m yours, too.”

They kiss again. Slower this time, less frantic and with more passion. He pulls her body close up against his, and she wraps her arms around his neck. He is alight with the tingle of magic, which runs from her body through his and then back again.

The sounds of the fighting in the tavern proper come back into focus as they break apart. They are speechless for a moment; breathless.

A bottle shatters against the stairs, making a loud noise which jolts their attention away from one another, and Rakan whips his cape up to shelter them from the glass that falls down between the steps.

“I am,” Xayah leans up to whisper in his ear, “ _ So  _ fucking ready to ditch this place. You?”

“Yeah _ . _ ” Rakan purrs, “ _ Oh _ yeah.”

They duck back out of hiding, giggling and then hollering with excitement as someone points them out and runs for them. Xayah kicks a chair, and they both make a break for upstairs, and their shared room.

**4.**

“She’s going to be fine.” The elderly healer scoffs as Rakan sits over Xayah’s prone body, tail twitching with worry, “She said so herself, that she’s taken worse hits than this. She’s got plenty of magic for healing, she just needs time now.”

The healer is right, but he doesn’t stop. He double-checks the bandages on her head, her ribs and her leg, and then goes about straightening her feathers so she’ll be comfortable. Reaching up to her head, he brushes the hair out of her face, and then the backs of his fingers over her cheek. 

He hates seeing her hurt like this, especially when he escaped with only a few cuts and bruises. He  _ hates  _ having to split up, and risk things like this happening. The scene keeps playing in his head: watching her get caught, and arriving at the last possible second to kick the guard’s weapon out of his hand before he could kill her.  _ Too close, _ Rakan thinks.

“Beaten pretty badly, but nothing lasting.” The healer speaks again, rolling her eyes and twitching both ears back. She’s a Lhotlan, like they are, albeit a few hundred years older. He hadn’t had time to tell the elder how everything had happened.

She picks up her stick and sighs, turning towards the door to leave the room. After a moment, she adds, “You young ones are so dramatic. Well, I won’t stop you fussing over the girl, I suppose.”

Rakan watches the healer leave, and then lays his head over Xayah’s chest, listening again for her heartbeat, her breathing, and careful not to put any weight into it — so he doesn’t hurt her. It’s all steady, slow. She was hurt, but as the healer said, she’s very much still alive. Still, it’s comforting to listen.  _ Everything is going to be fine. _

A little while passes. Maybe an hour, maybe two. Rakan’s not thinking about time. Just waiting, and worrying. He sneaks a hand up and takes one of her hands in his, and then goes to check her over again, as if he hadn’t already done it more than once.

As Rakan leans forward to take a look at her ribs, a hand brushes over his hair. He jolts his head up so that he can get a good look at Xayah—and sees that she has her eyes part-way open. She smiles, and her voice is a little strained, but she sounds pleased when she speaks. 

“Hey, good morning,  _ mieli _ .” She says, “Miss me?”

Rakan immediately touches his forehead to hers, purring deep in his throat. She’s looking into his eyes when he opens them, her hand cupping the side of his face. She pulls him in to kiss her, and he does—as if he thinks he’s about to lose her. Soft, but desperate. 

When he finally breaks away after a moment, he’s smiling, happy to see her awake. “You scared me,” He breathes, “I went looking for you ahead of time, because—well, I’m glad I did.”

“Me too,” She chuckles, and then groans, clutching at her chest. She tries to sit herself up, but Rakan puts a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, easy.” He says, “I did what I could with magic, but…”

“I know, baby.” Xayah’s tone is soft, but she groans, and mutters, “That asshole and his fucking metal boots. Who wears something like that? Ugh...” To Rakan, she adds, trying to sit up again, “We… can’t stick around here. Have to get to Seihu by—”

“Xayah,  _ miella, _ ” Rakan says, once again placing a hand on her shoulder, “Color of my heart. You know how much I love you. The elder says we can stay here until you’re fully recovered, and you need to rest. You’ve been pushing yourself. We can’t keep running into things at half of our strength.”  _ I can’t lose you, I can’t. _

He can see her considering as she sinks back down against the sheets. She frowns, but she knows he’s right. Xayah is many things; determined, passionate, driven. But she doesn’t think of herself, doesn’t take care of herself enough. There is a restlessness that he’s seen in her that keeps driving her forward, which helps her in some ways and hurts her in others. 

Xayah’s face scrunches up, and he can almost see her mind running over the time that they’re going to lose and how they’re going to have to make up for it. She is so smart about so many things, but her brain runs ahead of her body sometimes.

“Okay.” She relents, after a pause. There’s nothing more to add to it, but she takes his hand and holds it in hers. “Okay, because I love you, and you’re probably right anyway, at least about this. We’re…  _ ugh, _ gonna need to change some plans, though… map a new route, buy more supplies...”

“I can help?” Rakan offers, with a playful lightness in his voice.

“You absolutely cannot.” Xayah counters, smiling.

Rakan chuckles, and then immediately goes back to fretting when Xayah laughs and it turns quickly into a squeak of pain, swearing and clutching at her ribs. He places a hand over her chest, brushing the backs of his fingers against her skin. The soft green of soothing magic glows against the firelight coming from the other side of the room, and they sit, together, in silence.

**5.**

Xayah is  _ so  _ lovely.

It’s the only thought running through Rakan’s head as he watches the rise and fall of her chest, feels her breath against his skin where she’s cuddled up to him. They aren’t anywhere special. An inn with a decent window, in a real bed for the first time in a few weeks, with the sun filtering down on them through the thin curtains.

She’s still asleep. Rakan doesn’t want to wake her; she’s always so tired and she’s so rarely comfortable like this. So he lays there, their legs tangled together, wrapped around one another under the blankets.

She’s got no makeup on, so her freckles show on her cheeks. Her hair is splayed out across the pillow, and falls in strands over her face. Rakan brushes them away, and then leans forward to press a kiss to her temple. It’s light, and sweet, and he is just  _ so happy _ that she’s here with him now. 

A hand reaches up and fingers brush the side of his face. He sees Xayah crack one eye open, and she says, sleep still heavy in her voice, “Morning, baby.”

“Morning, sleepyhead.” He replies, “Sorry if I woke you. I was trying not to.”

“I’ve been awake for a few minutes.” She sighs, closing her eyes and shifting so she can nuzzle her face into his neck, “Just didn’t wanna face the sunshine yet. I like it here.”

He kisses her again, on the top of her head this time. “We can stay as long as you want. Got nowhere to be, today…” He chuckles, and then scoots himself down a bit so he can see her face, and adds, “You’re so beautiful, you know that? I wanna say that more. I could just stay here like this forever.”

She giggles, light and a little sleepy, then bumps her forehead against his. “So could I.” She says, before she kisses him back, once on the nose and then on the lips. He can tell she’s smiling into it as she does. 

_ Forever.  _ He wants to do nothing more than stay here. To chatter in soft voices, laugh and joke and never even leave their bed. They’ll have to eventually, but for now they’re both  _ in love _ and content to pretend that time isn’t moving for a little while.

_ Forever _ , Rakan thinks,  _ Only with you. _


End file.
